


A Job Gone South

by Maidenjedi



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maidenjedi/pseuds/Maidenjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon, River, and Jayne observe changes, on a day a job goes south.  Set post-<i>Serenity</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Job Gone South

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ozsaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsaur/gifts).



Their contact was a squirrely runt, not unlike Badger, but this one smelled worse. Like several-days-old cheese, or so River thought. 

She was along as muscle, or so said Mal. It was often her role to play now, after Miranda, after they'd all seen what she was capable of. So she and Jayne played good-cop, bad-cop - a fleeting look of confusion clouded Jayne's face when she said that, replaced immediately with a scowl and a rough "Whatever, we got a job to do." But he still played the bad cop rather well, for all that.

They were back on Santo, a place Jayne was adamant they should continue to avoid and one where Mal was only slightly more content to travel. But jobs were scarce, nowadays. Seemed few wanted to hire a notorious ship and her loose-cannon captain - or maybe there was just less crime to be done. That last was a hopeful echo from Simon, which had earned a glare from Zoe.

Santo was still home to slavers, proof that there was plenty more to be done to fix up the 'verse, and River knew coming here made Mal seethe. Jayne was little better, and his mood, which was never what one might call jovial, was sour as old milk upon arrival.

River was muscle, but quietly, and only to Mal, she was eyes and ears, too. She sensed something was wrong and couldn't place it. The squirrely runt's face twitched and his hand went for his hip a few times, but it was habit, not force. The air broke a split-second after River felt them coming - men with guns, with intent to kill, and the squirrel had tipped them off. His raspy giggle gave him away to the others; his sweat gave him away to River. She made sure the first blow went to his nose.

It went south fast. The squirrel, who claimed a loose affiliation with Niska's clan, had indeed sold them out to the local law. And that might not have mattered at all, except on Santo, they were already relatively well-known and Mal had a price on his head. So double the law, and double the weapons, and of course someone was shot.

That someone was River.

-

" _Wo de tian a_!" he exclaimed as Jayne carried River to the table. "What the hell happened?!"

It wasn't bad. It was her leg and it was a ricochet shot, and the bullet had ended up in the squirrel's gut (no one told Simon it happened that way because the squirrel was trying to pull River close for a shield even after she broke his nose - better Simon didn't know such things). Of course, there was prodigious cursing and threatening of Mal's sensitive parts anyway. Why was River with them to begin with? What were they thinking? 

Jayne laid her down, gently, so gently that she looked up at him with wondering eyes. And said nothing.

Simon railed and cursed some more as he ripped away River's borrowed trousers. "Well, it didn't hit anything vital, but the bleeding has to be stopped."

And Jayne spoke. "What do you need?"

His voice was calm, kind of quiet, and utterly unlike anything that had ever issued from that mouth. It stopped Simon's ranting cold.

Simon replied to Jayne, flustered, "Bandages and a clamp, in that drawer behind you."

And Jayne got them, quickly.

River wondered if she'd lost more blood than she thought.

Simon worked quickly. "You'll need a transfusion," he said, "It's probably overkill but I think you've lost more than it looks like, you don't need much but we're out, I haven't had a chance and there isn't anyone here who can...."

"Me," said Jayne, in that same voice. He was already rolling up his sleeve.

"No, you can't, you don't have...."

"Check."

And Simon, so aghast he was thrown from his objection, checked. The reader showed Jayne was a universal blood type, and Simon mumbled that he had known that (surely, he had) and he began prepping Jayne as soon as he finished cleaning River's wound.

River closed her eyes, and heard someone tell her it was alright, she could rest now. And she heard Simon affirm it.

 

-

As the transfusion took place, Simon had a chance to sit back for a moment and watch. He noticed a bad burn, likely from a rudimentary blaster of some kind, on Jayne's calf. It could wait for treatment until this was done. 

But as he took Jayne's appearance in, he noticed more burns, a scrape that might have been from a bullet graze, several tears. He also had a black eye, which was swelling shut as he sat there. The man shouldn't have been giving blood, but it was too late to stop everything and River did need it. 

"What happened out there?"

Jayne shrugged. "Usual. Mal got us hooked up with a _gou cao de_ middleman, deal went south. Hell, there probably was no deal, it was a set-up and he should have fucking seen it coming. River here, she knew it 'fore the rest of us even smelled the law, and she landed a punch or two 'fore the bullet hit. We won. Kind of."

Simon shook his head. "I don't understand why Mal wants her along. It's dangerous. She could get hurt." He had said the same for the last twelve jobs since Miranda, but with less conviction each time. Today, his fear renewed, Simon was ready to go, leave them all and just go.

Kaylee walked in, just at that moment (of course, thought Simon, like she could hear me, like she knew). "Everything okay?"

Jayne nodded, Simon shook his head.

"I'll take that as a yes. Simon, when River's patched up, Mal wants to talk to you."

He shrugged. She came over and kissed him. 

"No worries, now, _bao-bei_. She's alive, we're all alive, and it's just another day on the job. You oughta be thankin' Jayne, really. Cap'n says River might've taken worse, weren't for Jayne."

She left. Simon stared at Jayne, who didn't meet his gaze.

-

River cried out when the bullet hit her. It had bounced off the wall and had less force as it grazed her, so it lodged firmly in the squirrel's gut. She saw all this as if removed from her body, but the searing pain grounded her.

She began to fall, but she was caught.

Jayne held her in one arm and with the other shot and then beat back the four or five lawmen who saw fit to charge. To a one, they regretted it later. Jayne lived up to his reputation as a man not to be trifled with, at least in these parts, and he managed to get out with River only slightly the worse for wear. Mal and Zoe followed, guns blazing.

Zoe attempted to take River but Jayne would have none of it. She backed off and turned to cover their backs, not that anyone had bothered to chase them. They scrambled on to the ship and Mal punched the steel wall.

"It's not her fault, Captain," River whispered.

"Hush now," said Jayne, low, in her ear. "Ain't no need to talk. Get you to your brother."

She nodded.

-

The transfusion complete, Simon ordered Jayne to stay still, drink some water and eat the stale, faux-chocolate cookie kept for such occasions. He began tending to Jayne's superficial wounds. The burn on his leg was the worst, blistering and oozing, but the salve worked wonders in a moment. It made Simon momentarily glad that their relations with the Alliance were loosened at least enough to gain them access to decent supplies at times. 

"That was all that happened? Just...it didn't go well, and she was in the crossfire? I can't understand it - she's not supposed to be in the line of fire, Mal swore...."

But Mal had sworn no such thing, and Simon knew it. He sat down, deflated.

"She was shot, coulda been worse," said Jayne, practical and cool. "I picked her up and got her out of there. She's the good cop, we can't lose her." This last was said in a tone near to wonder.

Simon frowned. "Good cop?"

"Her lingo, Doc, not mine. I don't know what it ruttin' means."

Simon had wondered how the roles played out on jobs these days. They weren't always doing crime, as Mal put it, but they were in some shady situations, and it didn't seem that River had a natural place in them. But he could see now, yes. River was there to see the blows coming, which Jayne could not, and to land the ones none of them could. If it went very badly, River as she had been revealed was a more powerful ally - a weapon, really - than Jayne. Mostly because she was, in her own phrase, the good cop. They wouldn't see her coming.

Simon didn't think he liked it. He knew he didn't. If he'd had a choice, a say in anything River did anymore, he would defy Mal and keep her close on the ship. But things had changed and she had a role to play, just as Simon had his. 

In the silence, Jayne had stopped paying attention to Simon, and his gaze had drifted toward River, who dozed. And there for the first time, Simon saw something he recognized. 

Compassion. Affection.

He was astonished. Those were not traits he would have assigned to Jayne, now or ever. The same man who had once threatened to sell River's secrets at every port they came to, who called her names, who had bullied Simon. Jayne Cobb was a thug-for-hire who had no loyalties but to money - or so Simon thought. And Simon reflected, not one of his assumptions had borne true on _Serenity_. Mal was not a heartless criminal, Inara not his whore. Zoe had loved Wash in a real sense, and Wash had been a smart, funny man who chose this life willingly. Book hadn't been a meek shepherd. Kaylee had turned out to be everything he'd been taught didn't exist in a woman, and more. 

River had turned out far more damaged, but far more powerful, than he'd ever believed possible.

So why not Jayne? 

-

Jayne eyed the doc, wary of him, certain that there would be consequences now that he'd seen this side of Jayne. Not that Jayne considered it a "side" of himself - he simply had never had cause to be gentle, here. This life didn't lend itself well to that sort of thing, and there had never been cause.

Even now, when he reflected on what had gone down back on Santo, he saw it as protecting the crew. Doing a job. River was one of them, she was doing her job and she got shot for her trouble. And if one thing had changed for Jayne, it was that he never intended to leave a man behind again. He'd learned that much from Mal, not that he'd admit it.

Simon's silence unnerved Jayne. More ranting, screaming, hell even cursing would be more familiar. But silent contemplation? This was ruttin' spooky.

River's eyes fluttered and she squirmed on the table, murmuring "cold." Of course, she had practically nothing on below the waist. Jayne damn near blushed. He took off his jacket and began to lay it on her, but Simon shook his head and reached in a cabinet for a blanket.

"This is clean. That's not. You should see to it."

But it wasn't said with malice or resentment. It was quiet, calm.

Simon looked at Jayne, and they stared at one another, as though the other might strike at any moment. But when Simon visibly relaxed, Jayne forced himself to do the same. 

"Mal wants to see me. Can you - will you watch her?"

Jayne had not intended to leave, he realized with a start. He didn't know it until Simon spoke. He was staying right there, and yes, he would watch her.

"I shouldn't be long," said Simon, who then turned and left.

Jayne was left to marvel over the things that could change in the space of hours. Not unknown on _Serenity_ , perhaps, but seldom less shocking than this.

-

River woke some hours later, thirsty and a bit sore, but healing. Simon had left instruction that she was not to try and stand.

River had to shake her head. "Simon didn't stay? He let you stay?"

Jayne handed her water and nodded. "Somethin' like that."

River drank and thought, and decided she had no reason to question Jayne. His actions were to be expected, really, as time had worn him down. She said nothing to him, but handed him the glass and smiled.

"Thank you."

Jayne mumbled, "don't mention it," and told her since she was alright, he was going to sleep, and River told him to stay there, if he would. 

"In case."

Jayne had not changed. Mal would say as much a few days later when Jayne said something particularly crude about all the sex happening on the ship that he wasn't taking part in. And River had grown up, but maybe not as much as she thought and Simon feared. Simon, of course, was Simon - he wore his concerns and his objections on his sleeve, and only Kaylee managed to keep them both in check. No one really noticed what Simon had, the day the Santo job went south.

But there never was a job after that one where Jayne didn't stand close behind River, glaring daggers at the threats and wordlessly promising bloody revenge on the _qingwa cao de liumang_ who dared touch her. 

And frankly, there was never a job where River's softer glare didn't mean the exact same thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Wo de tian a - Dear god in heaven  
> gou cao de - Dog-fucking  
> bao-bei - treasure  
> qingwa cao de liumang - Frog-fucking punk 
> 
> Source: http://emungere.compromisingpositions.net/firefly/firefly_dictionary.html


End file.
